Accidentally In Love

Chapter 1: Neighbor Boy

   School sucks. Always has, always will. Life sucks, same as school. Basically everything sucks. But it does so in a beautiful way. You shouldn't worry about it. And life seems more content that way. But unfortunately, even though I say don't worry about life because it sucks....it still sucks. And I still worry about it.

   Currently, I am moving into my new home. Yay. Hint the excitement...

   At this point, all I can do is hope that life will be better, moving to this school. The scenery is about the same though—considering I only moved a town over.

   My mom found a huge infestation of rats living in our attic. I swear, it was like some Ratatouille crap. But fortunately my mom didn't chase them with a shotgun. It was a rifle.

Now it just sounds crazy to have a rifle laying around the house. But my dad collects guns—as a side-hobby I guess you could say. And we also live in Tennessee, so it's pretty normal.

My dad speeds ahead down the suburb road before stopping abruptly, throwing us all forward.

I dramatically hit my head on the passenger seat in front of me, throwing my hand up on my head. "Jesus christ! Are you people trying to kill me back here???" My mom smiles lightly at my hilarious self before shaking her head.

"It feels like it." My grandmother agrees from the 3rd row of seats. I laugh.

My parents open their doors, as well as my little brother, Truett, and they exit. I stay in the car for a second, looking out at the house through the window. My grandma stays in the car, too, but that's because she is packing the contents of her purse back into it. She decided mid-trip to dump it all out on the seats, just to look for her chapstick.

It's a two story house, something we've never had, nor been able to afford. It's painted a light blue color with a white door. The house is pretty close to our neighbors, only leaving maybe 8 feet away from each other. Our last house was quite litterly in the middle of no where. So we've never really had neighbors before.

I finally get myself to get out of the car, pulling my backpack out with me. All of my other stuff is in the moving van, but I decided to keep a bag with me for the drive. Just some books to keep me entertained, as well as some notebooks and pencils for writing.

"Now, let's just hope this house doesn't have mice." My mom says, holding up her finger to make a point. I smile at her, but it falters when my dad speaks.

"The only reason there were mice is because of your filthy kids. Can't clean up after yourselves worth a damn. Truett can't even do his own laundry and he's 14! Now you kids better listen to me, and listen now-" oh dear God, "I will not tolerate you kids slacking. You will clean without any sass or refusal, and you'll take care of this house." I haven't refused to clean since I was 10. I should know, I regretted it the moment I got hit with a switch. It hurt like a female dog.

I follow behind my parents in through the house door. The entrance leads into, what I'm guessing is, a living room. Most of our furniture is still in the moving van parked outside, but they put all our boxes inside. So it's pretty cluttered.

"Mimi, your room is the last door on the right once you make it to the top of the stairs. Truett, yours is the 2nd on the right." My mom informs, already picking up a box labeled "kitchen" and heading into the kitchen.

I decide to pick up one of my boxes before I head up the stairs. Might as well. Knowing myself though, I will not stop until everything in my room is fully unpacked. It's aggravating to just look at the boxes. Plus, I will hopefully feel more at home with my room the way it was at our old house.